What was it that brought them together,?
by love-the-wolves
Summary: One-shots of the relationship of Dean and Harry. The one-shots don't connect to each other.
1. is this perfect love?

What was it that brought them together, to be united in this perfect love?

One fateful day, Harry Potter had found him Dean Winchester near death's door, and in a striking display of bravery, saved his very life. From then on, they were inseparable. They shared every part of their life with each other. That was how it was to this very day.

Yes. He often reflected upon that day with fondness. It was a day that had changed his life, after all.

Harry, a childlike young man in his best years, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the royal blue water with his immaculate hazel-colored spheres. His black hair danced lightly in the ocean breeze, tickling against one cheek as he smiled to himself with anticipation as he adjusted his golden glasses.

The sun glinted off of his hazel shoulders and a pair of many-colored formal pants. His locks flowed in a silvery torrent past his shoulders, complementing his unblemished toast-colored visage. An alabaster growth of hair adorned his chin. For a moment, he absorbed himself in these thoughts, of him, and Dean

Harry hazel orbs spotted Dean further down on the beach, closer to the roaring sea. His lovely honey-colored mane was attractive as ever.

His crystals were turned toward the ocean, hidden from Harry's sight, but he knew and loved their childlike forest-green hue.

He was dressed in his usual everyday clothes. He had a toned but slender body covered with henna skin.

An elaborate tattoo snaked its way around his visible skin.o his left arm. A golden shadow of hair adorned his chin.

As Harry drew nearer, he caught a note of dean's familiar scent of lingering iron and steel. Like he worked all day with his baby, his impala.

He smiled to himself. It always reminded him of the time they shared. "lil-de," he called, walking towards him.

dean jumped a bit before turning around, smiling shyly. "Oh, Hades! I-It's nice to see you."

"It's good to see you again," Harry said, taking his hand. "Have I kept you waiting?"

"Not at all," he murmured. They began their leisurely walk along the ocean's edge.

To their surprise, Dean was the first to speak. "I-I've never really... had anything like this." He clung a little tighter to Harry's warm hand, resting his head against Harry strong, slender arm.

"Never?" he asked.

"Oh, never," he said breathlessly. "You are my first true love."

"I love you," he replied, landing a peck on his soft caramel strands.

"I love you too."

They strolled together for a few moments, the beautiful clear navy sky decorated with only a few hints of loamy clouds. The sun struck dean's coiffure and lit dazzling highlights of gold into the sunny midday

Harry looked at him admiringly. "You're beautiful," he told him. Dean blushed.

"W-Why do you say that...?" he stuttered, still recovering from Harry compliment. Nobody ever gave him a compliment.

"Because it's the truth." Harry placed his hand around dean's shoulder, drawing him nearer before giving him a hug "Not only that," he continued. "You're talented as well. We couldn't have saved the world without you."

"I caused a lot of trouble for you," he mumbled. "You were really the one who did all those amazing things. And you're so strong..." His eyes wandered over Harry's face, his unblemished depths, his fair hair. "... And handsome. I'm so lucky to have met you."

"It must have been destiny." He gave him an assuring squeeze. "But I never want you in that kind of danger again."

"As long as you're by my side," he whispered, letting Harry draw him into an even tighter embrace, "nothing bad will happen to me."

"I swear it on my own live," Harry affirmed.

"Oh, Harry Potter. My Hades. I love you so much," he whispered, his hand seeking out Harry's larger ones.

While they walked down the beach, they spotted a natural alcove in the cliff bordering the beach.

"Oh! Is that..." Dean began.

Harry pressed a finger to Dean's lips and said, "Yeah. Shh. Come on."

The natural alcove was covered in creeping vines with leaves and tiny flowers. The sound of the ocean echoed all around them, and tiny crabs burrowed into the sand at their approach.

"It's beautiful, Hades."

"I know," Harry murmured as he closed the distance between them. "So are you."

Dean's lips were firm against his, and so too were his hands. Harry was arrested by the smell of lingering iron and steel.

When Dean surfaced for air, he whispered, "Oh, Hades..."

It was some time before they left the alcove.

"The sunset is so beautiful, isn't it?"

Harry lifted his head at Dean's words to behold the dying sun's flaming radiance. "It's nice."

After a moment of silence, Dean said quietly and seriously, "Hades, you and me... do you think this is what they call destiny?"

Harry clasped dean's firm hand and murmured in response, "A love this true must be fated to be."

"Hades... Let's be together forever." Dean squeezed Harry's hand and sidled closer.

Harry sighed with contentment and brought Dean closer. He gazed at the beautiful sunny rays of the falling sun, thinking about everything that had transpired on this day and all that would pass between them.

"I love you, Dean Winchester. My lil-de."

"I love you too, Harry Potter. My Hades."

Their lips met, and shiny black strands met aureate ones, aflame in the dying light. The sand was their witness and the rumbling ocean their approving audience, and Dean. his eternally faithful lover. Harry thought to himself that nothing could be more perfect in the world.


	2. true love shines through

There was a man standing at the water's edge.

Harry, a haunted man of remarkable achievement, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the Azure water with his morose scarlet windows to his soul. His tawny hair danced lightly in the ocean breeze. He tried to deny the stirrings in his heart, resting his cheek against one hand as heclacked the heels of his dusky boots together. The sun glinted off of his sorrel shoulders and a pair of French vermillion formal pants. His hair was woven into a light brown braid, complementing his sorrowful ochre visage. A sepia growth of hair adorned his chin. He stood, awaiting his love.

They had known each other since they were children. They had spent time together so often that, despite all differences, others often mistook them as siblings. However, it was not until recently that they had recognized their feelings for each other. From then on, Harry was sometimes needy and close, but then suddenly cold and fearful. Dean tried his best to hide his pain, but it was plain in his globes. That was how it was to this very day.

"Harry ," Dean said simply with a beaming grin. His chartreuse windows to his soul complimented his caramel locks, brushing against his ears, belying his burning heart. He was dressed in his usual everyday clothes. He was light brown and sturdily built. A prominent scar stood out on his russet skin. As Harry drew nearer, he caught a note of Dean's familiar scent, a mixture of earthiness and sourness that was uniquely his. His orbs softened. It always reminded him of the time they shared.

"Dean. I feared you might not come," Harry whispered.

Dean's eyes widened. "Of course I came!"

Harry shook his head. "Everyone else abandoned me."

"That's awful," Dean mumbled. "I swear I won't." He affectionately reached out to him, and carefully he wrapped his fingers in his. With that, they began to walk along the beach. As they proceeded tenderly down the shoreline, Harry 's spheres mused over the doubts that haunted him, trailing him like a mournful shadow. His lips softly parted from the confessions that welled up in his throat, only to be swallowed back in grim defiance. Harry struggled to keep together his fragile composure.

"I'm... glad I was able to see you today," Harry whispered, steadying his tremulous voice. "While I still have you here, that is..."

A faint blush tinged Dean cheeks; he turned his face away with a nervous laugh.

"Heh, me too, Harry !" Dean didn't pick up the hint of foreboding in Harry 's tone. "Uh...so... what's on your mind?"

Despite the enthusiasm in Dean's reply and his grin, Harry 's heart sank like their feet in the ocean-kissed sand. What would Dean think about him? Would he recoil in disgust? In fear? In ridicule?

But Dean was different from the rest. Under that charming, outgoing exterior, there was a truly kind heart. Harry had previously known nothing but loneliness and isolation until Dean came into his life and filled it with his warmth. Although duty and obligation bound Harry, with Dean by his side, he could abandon her anxieties during those precious moments they spent together.

Harry shook his bowed head slightly at the thought. He was lying to him; Harry wasn't worthy of his kindness. Harry was ... Nothing but an outcast. A freak. Abandoned goods. Inextricably tied to the burden of commitment. Harry was undeserving

Before Harry could notice and dam the impending flood, a bit of dampness flecked and darkened the sand at their feet. Tears were rolling down his cheeks in soft rivulets, like hot bullets. Then came the sobs, breathless and soft as the dark bile in his heart came to a boil and bubbled up in the form of quiet, trembling whimpers.

"Hey! Hey now," Dean murmured, pulling Harry close to his chest. "What's the matter?"

Harry pulled away and gazed into Dean's concerned windows to his soul. The affable gaiety those deep kiwi-colored globes once held had since given way to tender distress.

"It's nothing. Please do not trouble yourself."

Harry cast his troubled visage aside and fought back the welling tears, glinting gold as they caught the light off the heavens' sympathetic glow. The ocean rolled and sighed with his shuddering breaths, and the flocks of seabirds overhead sung their lament. A newfound resolve set itself in Dean's eyes, and he pulled Harry close.

"That's nonsense," he murmured comfortingly, slowly stroking Harry 's upper back. "You've got to tell me what's going on."

"I...I could never do that to you, Dean. There's something about me you don't know, and I fear it's... it's too much to bear."

"Come on. What could be so bad that you wouldn't tell me?" Dean attempted to cheer Harry up with a reassuring smile.

"I'm afraid the answer might terrify you."

"Is... is that all?" Dean stammered.

"I've already been alone once, and I don't think I could stand it again!"

"But you won't be! You have me, don't you?"

"There's something that may be... keeping us apart."

"How bad could it be?"

Though comforting, the kindness in Dean's reassurances only aggravated Harry 's grief.

"Act as nonchalant as you please, then!" Harry sobbed louder than he had intended to. "It's horrible all the same!"

"Well, whatever it is, I don't care!" Dean shouted defiantly. "We'll bear it together!"

The sudden firmness, yet gentleness in Dean's voice drew a slight gasp from Harry 's lips. Dean truly cared... for a person like him. He shook his head, another wave of racking sobs overcoming him.

After a few moments, they found themselves walking down the beach again. Harry couldn't stop thinking about his other oath. It plagued him endlessly - while he was far from Dean and while he was near. It threatened to consume him. When Harry had let the faintest hints slip in the moments before, it had already taken so much of his will.

With concern, Dean turned his incorrigible pools toward Harry . "Harry ? What's wrong?"

"Dean... it's..."

And at that moment everything came together, all of the magic and the hurt that had been building that day, and he locked his depths with his and whispered, "You can tell me."

It was like a floodgate burst, or some barrier of fear had been struck down. Harry shook his head and everything came out at once. "Dean... I love you. But I love my country, too. I swore to serve her, and I... I worry that I cannot love both. What if I were made to choose? What then? I... I don't want to put you in danger, Dean. And I don't want to put either of you second... But still... I love you. I just don't know what to do, and it hurts, Dean."

Dean listened silently and solemnly. At last, when all the words had left Harry and he was at a loss for words, Dean reached out to him and took a deep breath to whisper back, "Harry ... that's awful. It wish that weren't how it is. I wish I could say more. Harry ..." Harry 's eyes began to burn, and he abruptly pulled Dean into a fierce embrace. Dean's orbs widened at first, but then he too felt overwhelmed by emotion and succumbed to the warmth of Harry 's touch.

"You," Harry whispered, his breath hot on Dean's ear. "As long as you're here, I... I can make it."They held each other as tears trickled down cheeks and dripped onto the shifting sands to be carried away into the sea. With time and soothing embraces, their pain dissipated into a mist swept out by the ocean breeze and into the setting sun.

They basked in each other's quiet companionship for a few moments. "Look... it's the sunset."

Harry lifted his head at Dean's words to behold the dying sun's peach radiance. "Mm."

After a moment of silence, Dean took Harry 's hands in his and said quietly and seriously, "Harry, I need to say something. Without you, I would be the sea without the moon - the moon without the sun - I... I mean, what I mean to say is..."

"Dean," he breathed in response. "I'm... I'm not that special."

"You are," Dean insisted, sounding almost hurt. "I'm not lying."

"I don't mean to say you're lying. Just that... never mind. Dean... you're... precious to me as well."

Dean brought their clasped hands to his lips. "Then... so long as you will it, we will never be parted."

Harry sighed with contentment and brought Dean closer. He gazed at the beautiful honey-colored rays of the falling sun, thinking about everything that had transpired on this day and all that would pass between them.

"I love you, Dean."

"I love you too, Harry ."

Their lips met, and light brown strands met blonde ones, aflame in the dying light. The sand was their witness and the rumbling ocean their approving audience, and Dean, his eternally faithful lover. Harry thought to himself that nothing had ever been so perfect for him as this.


	3. the forest, their audiance

There was a man standing at the forest's edge.

Harry, a morose man of remarkable achievement, stood alone on the forest floor, gazing over leaf littered floor with his empty sapphire pools. His mahogany hair danced lightly in the autumn breeze. He tried to deny the stirrings in his heart, resting his cheek against one hand as he traced a finger along his silver necklace. He wore a multihued featureless robe, covering him from head to foot. His hair was woven into a cinnamon braid, complementing his despairingtawny visage. A mahogany growth of hair adorned his chin. He stood, awaiting his love.

On that day, the shadows of his past had become unbearable. Meeting Dean brought some light into his life for the first time in a long while. He was his salvation. From then on, Harry was sometimes needy and close, but then suddenly cold and fearful. Dean tried his best to hide his pain, but it was plain in his depths. That was how it was to this very day.

"Harry," Dean said simply with a smile on his face. His aurulent pools complimented his emerald locks, brushing against his ears, belying his gentle heart. He was dressed in that exotic fashion in which he was most comfortable. He had a toned but slender body covered with Auburn skin. Beautiful wings were folded against his back. As Harry drew nearer, he caught a note of Dean's familiar perfume: sandalwood, earthy and spicy. His globes softened. It always reminded him of the time they shared.

"Dean. I feared you might not come," Harry whispered.

"Of course I came," he said, sounding somewhat hurt.

Harry shook his head. "Everyone else abandoned me."

"I won't leave you," Dean said firmly. Dean held his hand out to him, and hesitantly Harry took that, they began to walk along the forest path.

Harry's mind was flooded by painful thoughts. He clung tightly to Dean's firm hand as if it could save Harry. He was not supposed to be involved like this, torn between this and country, and never good enough. Dean, strong as he was, wouldn't possibly be willing to bear his burdens.

"What is it, Harry?" Dean suddenly asked.

"N-nothing," Harry whispered. "Why do you ask...?"

"Your hand is so tense." Harry let his head droop and let go. He was always causing Dean trouble... "I don't mean it like that. I mean if something's bothering you, you should tell me."

"No... Dean, I couldn't..."

Dean looked at Harry long and hard. Dean was struggling to understand what it was that plagued Harry, but to Harry, it seemed like he was glaring at him.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm always so..."

"Always so... what?"

"..."

Dean gave Harry a long and measured look. "You'll tell me when you're ready, won't you?"

Harry gave the faintest of nods. But of course he could not imagine ever feeling ready to tell him his secrets. In truth, Harry hardly even deserved him. Harry was ... Always falling tied to the burden of commitment. Wounded by the unexplainable.

Harry was unworthy of his time. The very thought of that brought tears to his eyes, and he looked away from Dean to hide them. But he couldn't hide the sobs that shook him.

"Harry." Harry rubbed the tears from his eyes. "Harry, look, you need to tell me. You're so upset..."

"There's something that may be... keeping us apart."

"Then we'll fight it together."

"I can barely put it into words. You've treated me so well, and I never want this to change."

"It won't change. Never."

"It's... I'm..." Harry's shoulders shook, and he buried his face in his hands. "Forget it! Let's just..."

Dean put an assuring arm around Harry's shoulders and brought him toward himself. "It will be alright. It's all right... I'm here. I'm here."

After a few moments, they found themselves walking down the forest path again. Harry couldn't stop thinking about his incomprehensible secret. It plagued him endlessly - while he was far from Dean and while he was near. It threatened to consume him. When Harry had let the faintest hints slip in the moments before, it had already taken, taken so much of his will.

With concern, Dean turned his seraphic spheres toward Harry. "Harry? What's wrong?"

"Dean... it's..."

And at that moment everything came together, all of the magic and the anger, the fear the guilt that had been building that day, and he locked his orbs with his and whispered, "You can tell me."

It was like a floodgate burst, or some barrier of fear had been struck down. Harry shook his head and everything came out at once. "I don't know if I can put it into words. I... lately... it might not even be just lately... It's nothing. It's nothing! Dean, I... it hurts, Dean... there's nothing that helps. Except that... sometimes, I feel a bit better when you're by my side..."

Dean listened silently and solemnly. At last, when all the words had left Harry and he was at a loss for words, Dean reached out to him and took a deep breath to whisper back, "Harry... you're not alone. I know what it's like - it happened to me too. I know that pain. My incomprehensible secret... sometimes it still comes back to haunt me. I know it's not easy." Dean placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry's eyes began to burn, and he abruptly pulled Dean into a fierce embrace. Dean's spheres widened at first, but then he too felt overwhelmed by emotion and succumbed to the warmth of Harry's touch.

"You," Harry whispered, his breath hot on Dean's ear. "As long as you're here, I... I can make it."They held each other as tears trickled down cheeks and dripped onto the shifting leaves of the forest floor. the leaves with their tears to be carried away with the autumn breeze. With time and soothing embraces, their pain dissipated into a mist swept out by the autumn breeze and into the setting sun seen above the trees of the forest.

They basked in each other's quiet companionship for a few moments.

"Look... it's the sunset."

Harry lifted his head at Dean's words to behold the dying sun's carrot-colored radiance. "Mm."

After a moment of silence, Dean took Harry's hands in his and said quietly and seriously, "Harry, I need to say something. Without you, I would be the sea without the moon - the moon without the sun - You are irreplaceable to me."

"Dean," he breathed in response. "I'm... I'm not that special."

"You are," Dean insisted, sounding almost hurt. "I'm not lying."

"I don't mean to say you're lying. Just that... never mind. Dean... you're... precious to me as well."

Dean brought their clasped hands to his lips. "Then... so long as you will it, we will never be parted."

Harry sighed with contentment and brought Dean closer. He gazed at the beautiful honey-colored rays of the falling sun, thinking about everything that had transpired on this day and all that would pass between them.

"You'll hurt your eyes doing that," Dean whispered.

Harry looked at him instead. "I love you, Dean."

"I love you too, Harry."

Their lips met, and bronze strands met vert ones, aflame in the dying light. The animals of the forest was their witness and the noises of wild live their approving audience, and Dean, his eternally faithful lover. Harry thought to himself that nothing had ever been so perfect for him as this.


	4. the playground

There was a man standing at his living room window watching the people outside.

Harry, a sorrowful man of remarkable achievement, stood alone in his own home watching children playing in the playground not far from his house with his aching emerald orbs. His sanguine hair he got from his mother danced lightly in the coming from the open window. He tried to deny the stirrings in his heart as he traced a finger along his silver wore cinereal clerical robes, humbly adorning his frame. His russet hair was bound back from his face, complementing his hollow lily-white visage. He stood, awaiting his love.

It must have been fate in mortal form that brought them together. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on him that they were meant to be. From then on, Harry was sometimes needy and close, but then suddenly cold and fearful. Dean also behaved strangely, one moment adoring, scathing the next. That was how it was to this very day.

Harry spotted Dean further down on the street, closer to the playground. His lovely caramel blonde hair was tied at the back of his head. His orbs were turned toward the kids playing, hidden from Harry's sight, but he knew and loved their morose green hue. He was dressed in his own unique fashion, a style unlike that of anyone else Harry knew. He had a toned but slender body covered with atramentaceous skin. As Harry stepped out of his house and drew nearer to were Dean stood, he caught a note of Dean's familiar scent of lingering iron and steel. His emerald green eyes softened. It always reminded him of the time they shared. "my hunter," he called, walking towards him.

He glanced back at Harry before again returning his inky gaze to the children. "Harry," he whispered.

Harry shrugged and said only, "Let's go." They began their leisurely walk along the play ground.

Neither of them spoke for some time. It wasn't uncommon for them - they'd exchange poker-faced glances and walk in silence for hours, until finally, they somehow touched, and overwhelmed by pain and loneliness they would turn to each other. It was no different this time. They had tracked halfway down the playground. down to where the park begins. before Dean turned to Harry and whispered, "I waited a long time for today. I... I missed you a lot." Harry didn't say anything. "It's like I told you before. You're all I have..."

Dean sought out one of Harry's hands with his, but Harry drew away. "Just be quiet." With a melancholy glance, Dean let his hand drop. "Every time. Cry, cry, cry. That's all you do."

Stricken, Dean turned away and began to weep.

Each sob was a blow against Harry's will and heart. At last he took a deep breath and dictated, "Stop. ... Please. You... you have no idea what effect you have on me."

"Why are you like this to me?" Dean whispered. "I... I don't understand. I need you, Harry. I need you like I need air. I'd do anything for you, but you still treat me this way..." Dean folded his arms across his chest and took a shuddering breath. "Do you hate me, Harry?"

"What if I did?" he mused.

"I would fall apart," Dean whispered. "I would have no reason to be." He waited for some kind of reassurance that it wasn't true, that it would never be, but it didn't come. He bowed his head. He should've known better than to expect such a display from Harry.

Instead, he took a few steps toward the park with a giant tree in the middle and arched his head to gaze up its height. "If I could be as open as you," he pondered, "I would consider myself lucky."

"Please let me in," Dean wept. "Please. Together we might be able to bear this cruel world."

Harry was a freak. Dean was also a freak. Maybe Dean had a point, he thought. Harry approached him and brushed a finger below his green orbs. "Perhaps... that might be..." he mused before stepping away again. Dean blinked, and wet his cheeks again with tears as Harry walked away - and then hurriedly followed, for Dean had nothing else in the world.

After a few moments, they found themselves walking down the playground again. Endlessly, Harry was haunted by his childhood ostracization - but he resolved to battle it alone, as he had all his life. Dean could not know. No one could. It was his burden alone to bear.

All the same, Dean seemed to notice. He looked at Harry cautiously for a moment before murmuring, "Harry? Is... something wrong?"

"Dean... it's..."

And at that moment everything came together, all of the magic and the hurt that had been building that day, and he locked his windows to his soul with his and whispered, "You can tell me."

It was like a floodgate burst, or some barrier of fear had been struck down. Harry shook his head and everything came out at once. "I wasn't... people weren't very... fond of me. I just didn't belong there. I was a child. I didn't have a choice. I had to live with their scorn... It's just something that happens... when you're like me. It burns... did they ever know that? That it hurts..."

Dean listened silently and solemnly. At last, when all the words had left Harry and he was at a loss for words, Dean reached out to him and took a deep breath to whisper back, "I... Harry, that's... that's something I've felt too. My childhood ostracization... sometimes, sometimes I remember it again, and it hurts... just like that. ...You're not alone, Harry." Dean brushed his fingertips against Harry's arm. Harry's eyes began to burn, and he abruptly pulled Dean into a fierce embrace. Dean's eyes widened at first, but then he too felt overwhelmed by emotion and succumbed to the warmth of Harry's touch.

"You," Harry whispered, his breath hot on Dean's ear. "As long as you're here, I... I can make it."

"Harry..." Dean laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, pushing him lightly so that they parted enough to look each other in the eye. "The truth is, I... feel the same way about you."

Harry tilted his head forward, pressing their foreheads together, and whispered, "What is it, Dean? Have you... been in pain, too?"

"Harry, it's..." Dean took a shuddering breath and whispered, "It's just... I'm just no good, Harry. I can never do anything right... I guess, I'm sorry. I just ruin everything. I'll probably ruin this... I... forget it. I just can't..."

Harry placed his hands on Dean's cheeks, stroking his cheekbone as he soothed, "I... Dean, that's... that's something I've felt too. My legacy of failure... sometimes, sometimes I remember it again, and it hurts... just like that. ...You're not alone, Dean." Harry brushed his fingertips against Dean's arm. They held each other as tears trickled down cheeks and dripped onto the sand of the playground to be erased by the playing children. Their pain dissipated by the laughter from the children in the setting sun, where dark clouds began to loom into sight.

They basked in each other's quiet companionship for a few moments.

"Mm. Sunset."

Harry lifted his head at Dean's words to behold the dying sun's flaming radiance. But even as he replied, "Mm," the onyx clouds looming on the horizon worried him. "My hunter, those clouds look bad. Let's go back."

Dean looked at him with such wretched windows to his soul and asked, "Just a few moments more? I don't want it to be over yet."

"Just a few more moments," he relented.

They were unprepared for how swift, how brutal the coming storm was. The rain poured in torrents. Winds whipped about them and kept them from moving on the shifting sands from the playground Soaking, shivering, they fought against the storm.

"Harry!" Dean screamed against the wind. "Please, don't let go!"

"I won't!" Harry shouted back, his hand clasping his firmly as Harry struggled upward on the playground. "Trust me, Dean!"

"I'm so sorry!" Dean sobbed. "I never should've asked-"

His next words were drowned out by the crash of thunder and lightning. A lightning strike knocked against Harry's side with incredible force, and in the moment he was stunned by the blow, he felt those calloused fingers slip through his.

Harry came to his senses, and he found himself alone on the playground.

"Dean!" he screamed. Without hesitation, Harry he searched everywhere. The waves of loneliness and emptiness tossed and rolled without mercy; Harry could hardly keep himself afloat within his own thoughts. But the sight of that atramentaceous hand barely sticking from a bush kept him moving forward.

For a sickening moment, those fingers disappeared from the bush.

"NO!" Harry bellowed before a mouthful of water from the rain choked his voice and brought him back to his senses. He dove o the bush with speed. The sky was dark and it stung his eyes to concentrate, but he could see Dean, his chest falling and rising like a falling flower petal in spring. With a flurry of energy, Harry shot forth and grasped Dean's limp hand,

Sputtering and choking, from the rain Harry caught his breath while struggling to keep Dean breathing. The cold and turbulent weather was beginning to take its toll; he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep them alive.

Dean sputtered and seemed to rouse. "Harry ... ...?" he murmured hoarsely.

"Hold on, Dean," Harry gasped as he put forth all his energy into fighting the storm. to bring Dean to safety "Hold on..."

* * *

A day later.

"He had too much water in his lungs and the lightning strike didn't help either," the doctor told Dean. "He pushed himself too hard on too little air. I'm sorry. He gave his life for you. He didn't make it."

Wracked with guilt and pain, Dean buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

* * *

Three days later

He tried to hide it, but he had a good heart."

"I wish I'd known him better. I wish I'd seen the person who would sacrifice his own life to safe another."

"He was an important member of our team. We couldn't have done what we did without him."

Dean sat on a chair by the coffin, his hands around his knees, his globes dry, his soul too numbed to grieve. The funeral attendees - And who knew there'd be so many to come to pay their respects? - nodded to him as they passed. He was motionless in response.

The reception lasted hours, but it seemed to Dean that it was only moments before the crowd disappeared. He picked himself off the chair and turned to look into the coffin for the first time since the funeral started.

Eyes closed and still, Harry laid inside in a fine onyx suit, his hands clasped over his chest. He could have been in a very deep sleep. Dean fought the urge to reach out and nudge him awake. Harry was gone. Gone because of him. Because he loved him. Trembling, Dean leaned in and laid a single kiss on Harry's lips.

Why did their love end so soon?


	5. The lake

What was it that brought them together, to be united in love?

One fateful day, Dean had found him near death's door, and in a striking display of bravery, saved his very life. From then on, they were inseparable. They shared every part of their life with each other. That was how it was to this very day.

Yes. He often reflected upon that day with fondness. It was a day that had changed his life, after all.

Dean, a gentle man of remarkable achievement, stood alone at the lake, gazing over the turquoise water with his angelic emerald crystals. His sunny hair rustled lightly in a warm breeze. He smiled to himself with anticipation as he traced a finger along his silver necklace. He wore a cement-coloured tank top, his shoulders a beautiful khaki in the sun, and charcoal shorts that looked comfortable and easy to wear. His caramel hair was trimmed short around his head, complementing his guileless hazel visage. A prominent scar stood out on his khaki skin. For a moment, he absorbed herself in these thoughts, of him, and Hadrian.

Dean's kiwi-coloured spheres spotted Hadrian further down on the lake shore, closer to the calming waters. His lovely locks rippled behind him in a starless wave. His orbs were turned toward the lake, hidden from Dean's sight by his long black hair, but he knew and loved their adoring vert hue. He was dressed in his usual everyday clothes. His skin was healthily colour-touched light-coloured and his form was slight. As Dean drew nearer, he caught a note of Hadrian's familiar perfume: a sweet, rich lavender. He smiled to himself. It always reminded him of the time they shared. "Adrian," he called, walking towards him.

He jumped a bit before turning around, smiling shyly. "Oh, dove! I-It's nice to see you."

"It's good to see you again," Dean said, taking his hand. "Have I kept you waiting?"

"Not at all," he murmured. They began their leisurely walk along the lake's edge.

To their surprise, Hadrian was the first to speak. "I-I've never really... had anything like this." He clung a little tighter to Dean's warm hand, resting his head against Dean's slender arm.

"Never?" he asked.

"Oh, never," he said breathlessly. "You are my first true love."

"I love you," he replied, landing a peck on his soft raven strands.

"I love you too."

They strolled together for a few moments, the beautiful clear azure sky decorated with only a few hints of loamy clouds. The sun struck Hadrian's coiffure and lit dazzling highlights of gold.

Dean looked at him admiringly. "You're beautiful," he told him. Hadrian blushed.

"W-Why do you say that...?" he stuttered, still recovering from Dean's compliment.

"Because it's the truth." Dean placed his hand around Hadrian, drawing him nearer. "Not only that," he continued. "You're talented as well. We couldn't have saved the world without you."

"I caused a lot of trouble for you," he mumbled. "You were really the one who did all those amazing things. And you're so strong..." His eyes wandered over Dean's face, his spotless depths, his golden locks ,the few freckles on his nose and cheek. "... And handsome. I'm so lucky to have met you."

"It must have been destiny." He gave him an assuring squeeze. "But I never want you in that kind of danger again."

"As long as you're by my side," he whispered, letting Dean draw him into an embrace, "nothing bad will happen to me."

"I swear it," Dean affirmed.

"Oh, Dean... I love you so much," he whispered, his hand seeking out Dean's larger ones.

As they walked, they came across a part of the lake that looked darker than the rest.

"What's that?" Hadrian asked.

"The locals say the lair of a lake monster lies in that ravine," Dean said. Just as he finished talking, a roar pierced the air. "Watch out!"

The cobalt still water swelled and surged with waves, and Dean ran up the lake shore with Hadrian's hand in his. From the frothing light-coloured foam emerged the head of a giant eel, which let out a screech that rent the sky. It bared its glinting sharp canines at them.

"Do you think it wants to... eat... us?" Hadrian whispered.

"It's not going to eat us!" Dean said firmly. Ever prepared, he whipped out his weapon. "Go! I'll protect you. I'll make sure of it!"

The eel lunged for him, and he jumped away, the eel's teeth burying itself in the stones f the lake's shore . Then he launched a counter-strike: first a blow along the beast's back, and then a second, sharper one along the eel's exposed underside. The monster roared in outrage before slipping back into the lake.

Panting for breath, Dean asked, "Are you hurt?"

Hadrian shook his head. "I'm fine."

"That was more trouble than I bargained for." Dean offered Hadrian Dean's hand. "Stick tight. You never know what else might spring out of the lake."

Hadrian clung his hand as the radiant salmon sunset began to fill the sky.

The sunset is so beautiful, isn't it?"

Dean lifted his head at Hadrian's words to behold the dying sun's fermented radiance. "It's nice."

After a moment of silence, Hadrian said quietly and seriously, "Dove, you and me... do you think this is what they call destiny?"

Dean clasped Hadrian's soft hand and murmured in response, "A love this true must be fated to be."

"Dove... Let's be together forever." Hadrian squeezed Dean's hand and sidled closer.

Dean sighed with contentment and brought Hadrian closer. He gazed at the beautiful honey-coloured rays of the falling sun, thinking about everything that had transpired on this day and all that would pass between them.

"I love you, Hadrian."

"I love you too, Dean."

Their lips met, and sunny strands met sable ones, aflame in the dying light. The sand was their witness and the rumbling ocean their approving audience, and Hadrian, his eternally faithful lover. Dean thought to himself that nothing could be more perfect in the world.. Their love for each other.


End file.
